My adrenaline slowly subsides but only to a less erratic level.
I reach up, hook him around the back of his neck and push my lips onto his.
He seems taken aback for a moment, but then, as the blanket drops, he grips my rear with both hands and pulls me toward him. I feel him grow against my hip as his tongue dips into my mouth, tasting me.
Turning, he pushes me against the closed door and hooks my leg over his arm, moaning when his length pushes against my tingling mound.
“We don’t have time,” he breathes, pulling back and cupping my jaw with his large hand. “I’ve got a poker game to win.” His lips trail down my neck. “You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” His fingertip trails over the seam of my bra. “Keep this on and I’ll sneak in later.”
“What about that man?” I ask, looking at the window again but seeing nobody there.
“Don’t worry, whoever he is has likely been frightened off. If you’re scared, get dressed and go up to my room.” He runs his thumb over my lower lip. “I’ll try to get this over and done with as quickly as I can.”
I nod and pull away from him, grab the gray dress and slip it over my head, then I follow him barefoot to the dining area where three men are standing with the doors wide open. Devon returns and shakes his head at Sargent who sighs.
“Footprints but no sign of him.”
“He won’t be back,” Stone assures us, glancing at me. When he catches me looking, he winks and Sargent pulls me behind him as he steps forwards. “Not while we’re here.”
I move to the stairs, keeping my head down, when Stone’s hand reaches out and he grabs my bicep.
“Are you not going to introduce us?” he asks Sargent as he looks at me with curious eyes. His long, dark beard surrounds curving lips and surprisingly nice teeth. There’s a curiosity in his eyes that makes me feel as naked as I was when he burst into my room.
“No,” Sargent replies and Stone’s hand tightens on my arm, only slightly, it doesn’t hurt but it does tell me I’m not going to be able to escape.
“Perhaps she’ll introduce herself?” He grins, raising a dark brow.
I wet my lips and his eyes move there. “I’m Tempest.”
“Tempest?” He tests my name and his grin broadens. “I like that, a name fit for a biker, or an old lady.”
“Stone,” Sargent warns and Stone chuckles but still doesn’t release me. The other men watch on, interested by the exchange. They’re all wearing the same cut as Stone, all but one. Devon shifts on the spot by the open doors, he looks as uncomfortable as I feel.
“And why are you here, Tempest?”
“I’m visiting, from England.”
“That explains the accent, though I had thought you were Australian for a minute there.” He chuckles and nods to Sargent. “You his?”
“Sorry?”
He gives my bicep a little shake. “I said, are you his?”
“No,” I reply quickly.
His smile broadens. “You his son’s?”
“I’m just a friend of the family.”
“She’s mine,” Sargent snaps, yanking me backwards and into his chest. I slam against him with an oomph.
“She doesn’t seem to think so.” He raises a challenging brow. “You fucked him? Bet you’re a good fuck. You got that look about you. Raise hell with a body like yours.”
“Stone,” the man in the suit warns. “Perhaps pissing off Mr. Wolf is not in the best interests of the club at this point.”
“I’m just playin’!” Stone declares to the room and moves away. “Speaking of playing, have you ever watched a live match of poker?”
“I’ve had enough excitement…”
“Sit your sweet ass down and watch me take your man’s money.”
Sargent curses under his breath and everybody returns to the table where a fresh deck of cards is shuffled, cut, shuffled, cut, and then dealt.
I sit quietly as one of the men brings us drinks, myself included. I’m forced to take a shot of whiskey for my nerves and Sargent keeps one hand on my thigh at all times. He wins a few hands, loses a few, but it isn’t until Devon, the suit guy who I know now to be called Banks, and the last guy in a leather cut who isn’t serving drinks, are out, that things get tense and Sargent releases me.
At this point it’s no longer a game of skill but a game of luck and stupidity.
Their piles of chips shift in height as they both win and lose. That is until finally, after another hour and a few more drinks giving them both a buzz, Sargent leans back and speaks.
“This is getting boring.”
“I agree,” Stone replies, winking at me. “You wanna make it more interestin’?”
“Depends what you want,” Sargent places his hand back on my thigh.